


Time, She's On My Side

by whosays_penultimate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (hopefully), 10x23, Carvernatural, Carvernaturelle, Crack, Gen, Humour, Meta, Mindfuck, at least the humour is intentional, basically just a load of, except the episode hasn't aired yet, season 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 23:24:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3955846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whosays_penultimate/pseuds/whosays_penultimate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean stepped into the abandoned joint with dancing skeletons painted on the walls. What was he doing there? Only one man knows, and it isn't Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time, She's On My Side

**Author's Note:**

> This is my gift to Hilly and Britt <3
> 
> Unbeta'd, unhinged, unapologetic. Suspension of disbelief might occasionally be required.

Dean stepped into the abandoned joint with dancing skeletons painted on the walls. The joint _seemed_ abandoned but the electrical lights were twinkling merrily. He was not allowed however, to express his incredulity, not even with a 'Huh'. His cellphone rang. Sam. He answered his brother's call and dutifully repeated what he was supposed to say. Once again refusing the offered help. Refusing to have Sam by his side. Professing that he tried everything to fix it but couldn't. The fact that he still called his brother Sammy seemed a mockery.

'I want to get this over with', he finally said, and duly ended the call.

He stood silent for a few seconds, his jaw twitching.

'What I want', he finally said,  'is to go back to my brother.'

'Well you can't', the writer replied.

'There's supposed to be angst and conflict between you and your brother. It's the finale! It's what I DO!'

'Yeah, I don't think so, not if I have a say in it.'

'Well you DON'T. Have a say in it, that is. I am your God and you will obey me.'

'Yeah well, _I kill gods,_ remember?'

Dean looked so threatening at that moment, that it gave the writer pause.

~

Andrew Dabb came into the room  to find Jeremy Carver poking viciously at the piece of paper in front of him. He decided not to comment on that.

'Boss, the network called, said they want the script ASAP so they can check it and approve it. Did you think of the song you wanna use?'

'What bloody song?'

'Did you forget? They specifically said, modern songs that would appeal to the younger generation... They insisted the finale must have one.'

'Oh...yeah,' Carver replied distractedly. 'I was thinking of using 'We are young' by Mika.

Dabb's face was a blank mask. Carver waved him away impatiently.

'Tell them I'll have the script ready for them in 2 hours max.'

He watched Dabb leave with a hateful look on his face. He remembered it was him who wrote that 'I kill gods' line, that Dean quoted back at him so flippantly. He would have been even more hateful if he had known that Dabb was fervently thinking of Carver when he wrote the line 'I wish it was you up there' (on the pyre).

Carver sighed and returned his attention to the mangled piece of paper. He had a script to finish. He didn't like using a computer, because he felt it was too impersonal. It made him feel more like a writer when he put pen to paper. He smoothed down the sheet in front of him and continued writing.

~

Death stepped towards Dean.

'Dean Winchester. I seem to remember warning you the last time, not to call on me at your every whim. I am, as you may well imagine, the busiest being in the universe.'

'Then why are you here?'

'Dean, Dean', Death answered.

There was no actual logical reason for him being there, but nonetheless he obeyed the writer and replied, OOC:

'You and I are very similar. We both like junk food and we both kill a lot of people. Me more than you so far, but the show's not over yet.'

'Yeah except you're a horseman', Dean sarcastically replied.

'At the end of the day, though, are we really all that different?' Death cringed inwardly at the lines he was being forced to utter.

'Huh', Dean replied. 'Well, back to the point. I've called you here to ask your help in getting rid of the Mark of Cain. Can you do it?'

'I could get rid of the Mark for you. And it's only gonna cost you one thing.'

'Oh yeah? What's that?'

'I'll tell you in a minute. For now I'm gonna hold on to that information, purely for suspense value. Meanwhile - here -' Death pulled a scythe from his big coat and handed it to Dean.

'What - Oh no, dude. I played once at being you and I didn't much enjoy it'

'What are you talking about?' Dean said. 'This is just an honorary scythe. For killing a shitload of people. Go on, take it.'

'Uh - thanks, I guess?' Dean said. 'Did Cain get one, too?'

'Of course. Centuries ago. The days before burgers and soda, to make it plainer to you.'

'This, on the other hand', Death said, pulling another scythe from this coat, 'is the real thing. The scythe that will kill God one day, too. The one I'll be using to cut your Mark-infected arm off. Without the Mark, your body will eventually succumb to blood loss. If you want, I can chop off other parts of your body as well, to speed up the process.'

Dean considered this.

'Alright. Let's do this. Tell me the terms.'

Their moment of facing each other with silent intensity is broken when the door is suddenly kicked open and Sam bursts in:

"I won't let you do this, Dean!'

Death barely had time to turn, probably slowed down by his famed affinity for junk food, when Sam grabbed the scythe from his hand and stabbed the horseman with it.

There was a blinding flash and some random colorful sparkles. As the light died down, nothing was left of Death except his black coat and the scythe.

'What the fuck have you done, you freaking idiot?' Dean yelled.

Sam turned to him, a pained expression on his face:

'I don't know, Dean, it doesn't sound like I'm thinking through much of anything these days, am I?'

'No, you're really not', Dean replied, with a touch of his old snark. 'Now you went on and KILLED DEATH. I'm not really an expert but - that's gotta fuck up with the universe something BIG.'

'We've fucked up the universe before...', Sam replied, uncertainly.

'Not on this scale!'

'So does this mean...no one will _die_ anymore?'

'Let's test that theory, shall we?'

Dean lunged at Sam, stabbing him in the belly. Sam gasped, staring at Dean with hurt and disbelief in his eyes. He grabbed at Dean's arm, trying to hang on, trying to speak, but he choked on blood and fell limply to the floor.

The Mark was burning on Dean's arm. Dean stared at it, then his eyes turned to the scythe. The real scythe. He grasped it in his hand and stood up.

Fade to Black.

~

Satisfied, Carver taps on the piece of paper and chuckles.

'That's enough mindfuck to last them the whole summer. I'm a genius.'

He stands up to give it to his assistant to type and send to the network people. And then he'll be off for an early lunch.

He opens the door and bumps into Jensen Ackles.

'Oh hi Jensen. Didn't expect to see you here. What's up?'

The man doesn't reply, but continues to stare at Carver with a murderous look on his face. A look that is very similar to... - No, it can't be. Carver rubs his eyes hard. He's been working too much, he's exhausted, he's seeing things.

The man in front of him pulls out a weapon just like the one he had just finished writing about, and advances on him.

'STOP!' He trembles. 'I'll do whatever you want! Just stop! Don't kill me! We'll change this, I'll just tear it into pieces and we'll write a new one! I mean you - YOU will write a new one. This didn't happen, here, here see - it's gone, all gone!'

Hearing his boss's desperate cries, Dabb rushes into the room, only to see Jeremy Carver breaking the script into small pieces, looking pleadingly at thin air, sniveling and mumbling about writing a new one.

'What is going on? Is that the script? You've destroyed the script? There's no time to write a new one! What have you done?' Dabb exclaims, perplexed.

Carver looks at Dabb with huge terrified eyes.

'Where is he? Where did he go?'

'Who?' Dabb replies. 'No one came in here, Jeremy. I would have seen them, I was right outside.'

'Don't you mess with me, you PUNK!' Carver yells. 'He was just here, he threatened me, he had the scythe!'

Dabb shakes his head in bewilderment.

But then suddenly he hears a rumble. A sound, like that of paper tearing, but much magnified. The entire building shakes - Dabb has just enough time to think that this is the first earthquake he's experienced in Vancouver - when he suddenly notices the wall - no not the wall - the THIN AIR, breaking into a straight line. He opens his mouth and cries out in abject terror.

~

The paper is torn in two and rumpled, only to land into the wastepaper basket.

'This isn't working', says the bald young man seated at the table. 'This whole meta business has gone too far. There's such a thing as too much post-modernism. Back to the old-fashioned monster hunts and good vs. evil, it's the open road for them from now on.'

He turned the music louder and sat back, whistling.

There was a knock on the door and a young man came in, carrying a laptop.

'Your computer's all fixed, Mr. Kripke.'

'Excellent!' he replied cheerfully. 'I was getting tired of writing on these pieces of paper.'

~

A Supernatural fan sits up straight in bed, just as the alarm goes off, sweating profusely. Noises of someone showering can be heard, as well as the usual soothing noises of early morning.

'Phew', she mutters, rubbing her eyes, what a goddamn weird dream. 'Then again, no wonder....after last night's episode.'

She takes a few moments to reflect.

'It somehow feels as if I lived every moment of it...'

She shrugs and gets out of bed. She moves towards the desk to turn on the radio and flip the calendar page to today's date: 'May 14th 2010.'

The radio blares:

_What do they know about us?_

_Are they thinking of somebody else?_

_Are they wondering what we might be?_

_Are they thinking of you or of me?_

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering about the date, Swan Song aired May 13th 2010.


End file.
